Bell Lane

The name Baxter just caught my eye, especially with regard to Bell Lane. It was to Granny Baxter's cottage in the row of Bell Lane Cottages that my mother Ruby and I commenced our life in the country upon our evacuation as mentioned earlier. Being only eight at the time I cannot remember all the details sadly. I do remember that we had a fire in the kitchen although Mum and I were shopping in Huntingdon. Not being used to parafin stoves, Mum neglected to blow out the little stove in the kithcen, which had gradually increased in the flame as sis that kind of stove, and we returned from our shopping about mid-day to find the Fire Engine in attendance and the cottage reaked in smoke We sure learned the hard way what one had to know about parafin stoves, coming from London with a sophisticated gas stove.
It was some time after the fire that Mum was approached by Mr. Rowley from Alconburyt Weston and was offered a job milking his cows, and acommodation at Corner Farm on Buckworth Lane. Never having ever milked a cow in her life, it was one heck of a challenge for Mum, but with the help of a girl in the Women's Land Army, Sheila Peck from Camnbrige (and previously in a photographers shop there) these two went after a time from hand milking a herd of cows to using a milking machine, manageing a total change in their way of life. We lived on the farm until 1946 when we moved back into Alconbury, on Chapel Street where I lived until military service in 1951. During those five years, as we lived in the one time Ganderton house attached to the butcher's shop, I was the Saturday butcher's boy, delivering the meat ration to many homes in the village on a true tradesman's bicycle with a small wheel at the front under the basket for the goods. 1949-Jan.1951 I was employed as junior draughtsman at the Huntingdonshire Architect's Office before donning uniform at Colchester for NS, and eventually serving in Malaya in the Sufolk REgt. There, one Saturday, hiking from Wardiburn Camp into Kuala Lumpur, a truck stopped and the driver called out "Hop in Barry". To my great surprise it was another lad from Alconbury, Fred Brinkhurst, who was also in Malaya unknown to me, since he was in the RASC, He had recognised me whilst driving and offered me a lift into town. It was definitely a case of 'small world'.
Currently I am still living in Sweden, in Munkedal, a large village on the west coast, where I have now lived for 19 yeaars after retiring from running a B & B a few kilometres further to the north. One of the first in Sweden, and run, with my Swedish wife, in true British fashion for 18 years. In September I will be 90, so I fear no more travelling, even to my homeland. But as you can see, it has been an interesting life meeting many interesting people.